


Fateful

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: Tekken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Angst and Tragedy, Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Constipation, Father/Son Incest, Fear Play, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Consensual, Sadism, School Uniforms, Secret Identity, Sensuality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 08:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: Years before the 3rd King of Ironfist Tournament, Kazuya is in hiding & living comfortably - until Heihachi announces publicly of a mysterious 'Heir' to the Mishima Zaibatsu. Kazuya goes to investigate.*rating will change in future chapters*





	Fateful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/gifts).



> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.  
> prepare for oncoming incest....& this is as Shota i'll go.
> 
> For Merci & a reader (temo) that i'm happy to have met.

The announcement was aired publicly not a week ago, Kazuya sat comfortably inside his limousine which was parked a safe distance from the Mishima Polytechnic School, a dossier open in his lap and sheets of paper strewn about in neat stacks, the edges fluttering in the autumn breeze – he came looking for a boy whom supposedly was the blood-heir to the Mishima empire.

A majority of the Mishima Polytechnic School's students were on the 'weaker' spectrum, none resembled himself nor his hated father Heihachi, all the children were very much normal and ordinary – a few were tall and muscular for their age, but lacked his own distinct features.

He surveyed the grounds over and over, the Devil within was becoming increasingly impatient, once in a while instigating a headache only to be appeased by the image of the faceless Mishima heir's blood pouring down their arms and creating a black puddle at their feet – a pleasant glow emitted from Kazuya's mind and reached out unto his face, the Devil sneered using his face and he did not mind or tried to hide his own gratification at the thought.

Kazuya's plan was to kidnap the boy and use him as leverage against Heihachi, the Devil suggested simply killing the boy and being done with the hiccup in life's cosmic masochistic power-trip – whichever he ultimately decided, the boy _needed_ to die or forever be a thorn in his side, the students caught his attention once more as the last of the school building emptied and the children were sent to their respective transportation.

The wealthy were escorted to personal limousines, the middle-class either went to their own parents or the public transit, and then there were a pair of children left at the front drop off zone: a tiny girl with pigtails and a panda backpack, next to her was a boy in his early teens wearing a standard high-collared ("gakuran") uniform over a white hooded jacket, a pair of attendants stood at their side, watching the road diligently and keeping their young wards in check.

In less than a blink of an eye, a group of older ruffians grabbed up the little girl's backpack while one of the attendants ran after the group, the boy quickly reassured the girl and put his uniform jacket over her before taking off in the general direction where the group disappeared, the second attendant stood hunched over and puffing as he tore past, ignoring their calls of, “Young Master! Young Master, the authorities have already been alterted!”

Wasting a day within the safety of his limousine, Kazuya directed the driver after the boy – the entire district located around and upon the Mishima Zaibatsu grounds were heavily patrolled, he then decided to catch the student and coax the information out in private rather than waiting for Heihachi to bulk up on security, there was never another opportunity like the one presented before him.

A short trip around the block, on foot through an alley, at the dead end stood six looming figures and the smaller boy in the white hood, he did not plan to intervene, just the opposite, he waited for the six older boys to soften up the younger one and make him susceptible to questions, and possibly even the slightest threats, the Devil lurking within made no arguments about beating children into a bloodied pulp, they just happened to be smaller versions of grown scourges.

Shadows played upon the high rise buildings, making the darkness all the deeper as he stayed at the very sidewalk away from the alley's filth – the older boys were making dark promises, shouting their cuss words and flinging the verbal oaths as freely as a swat to the backside – the smaller boy did not flinch, not once did he raise his chin and show the fear in his eyes, the older boys encircled his tiny lone form, one behind the boy made a motion to shove his body toward the awaiting four who were already in a stance, the boy took both shoving arms in a lock and applied enough pressure to make the instigator cry out in pain.

The one on his left swung a leg directly into his chest, another made a grab for his hoodie collar in case he was to slip away from the attack, the boy wrapped his arms around the leg as it jarred his upper torso, he stomped the right foot still planted on the concrete and quickly fought the grip on his hoodie collar by twisting out and around, he shoved the older boy up against the gummy wall and the second one after, efficiently knocking the two out, he turned around and spied the remaining three.

The older boy still holding unto the stuffed panda backpack shoved the two at his awaiting form, they attacked haphazardly, almost able to land a hit or two but were knocked out just the same when he threw a fist into their gut, stealing the wind from their lungs and leaving the pair breathless – the last turned heel and ran, unknowingly straight into Kazuya's outstretched arm, the older boy's body dropped and Kazuya easily caught the stuffed panda backpack, the boy looked upon him at long last, his brown eyes tracking Kazuya's self-sure movement.

Jin huffed as much as the forming bruise in his chest would allow, a dull lightning crack along his ribcage signaled the size of the bruise, he was always easily able to take care of bullies and rival dojo students in the past, but these last couple of years ensured that dojos would keep popping up all over near the Zaibatsu grounds and challenge the current reigning master of Karate, his grandfather Heihachi, the strengthening rumors of the third Annual King of Iron Fist Tournament did not help matters – and he would forever be goaded into scuffles despite his peaceful nature, the delinquents of Northside Kage-Ryuu Dojo finally got their match after picking on his little sister Xiaoyu, he hoped they learned their lesson and brought their disagreements up to him directly.

At the end of the darkness, he glanced up and beheld a looming figure in an indigo suit, the fine silk shone black in its shadows and a subdued dark plum in the evening light, his eyes traveled up and there was the most terribly cold beauty he ever saw, an imposing man that could command armies with a single gesture and instill fear with a single glance – he figured that the man was either Yakuza or a doyen of the underworld or something far more terrifying beyond his darkest fears – and yet all he could see was the instantaneous expression of longing and anger, sorrow and hate, each emotion perfectly displayed on the stranger's hard face.

A dark aura emanated from him, thick and menacing as poisoned gas, wild like an avenging demon – words seemed useless, pleading appeared even more ineffectual, the only thing to do and appear less weak was to stand, wait for the Yakuza assassin to come upon him and take his insignificant life, though Jin was resigned to whatever the unknown man willed of him, his instinct made him step back as the man's imposing form loomed over him, they continued on until Jin's back hit the alley's wall, the cold stone cutting into his shoulderblades and his eyes swimming in a thin film of tears.

Slowly, cautiously, almost gently, the man took him by the chin and he was forced to stare up into the face as passionless and unforgiving as the stacked bricks at his back – unknowingly, Jin's tears slid over his eyelids and left singular hot trails on his cheeks, he took in the face of his death staring right back at him, watching the shadows darken around his eyes and the tiny amount of light highlighting his lips which twitched, he felt powerless though he was his grandfather Heihachi's most accomplished student, a softness brushed against the bruise on his chest.

Xiaoyu's panda backpack was once more softly pushed up against his body, Jin blinked at the soundless man, he wrapped his small arms around the stuffed backpack and sniffled – the man took the scarlet pocketsquare from his left breast pocket and snapped the material flat, he dabbed away Jin's cold tears in four simple presses: once atop both cheekbones and once at Jin's lower jawline.

Once done, the stranger bent down, his fingers brushing back Jin's hood and his throaty voice said two words, “Hate me.”

Jin's cheeks burned from their closeness, his eyes widened from shock, his body quivered from some unknown anomaly awakened within him, no one had ever said anything so stoic and apologetic in all his fourteen years, as if the man had already seen their destinies and wished him all the luck before he single-handedly crushed his budding dreams and ended his short life.

As courtesy dictated, Jin wordlessly bowed, the man's prophetic words playing over in his mind – Kazuya turned, leaving his only son to follow in his footsteps and become an exquisite tool for the Devil Gene.


End file.
